Missing Moments
by Eiolywn
Summary: A collection of moments, memories, and private thoughts shared between Nine, Twelve, and Lisa - most lost to time. Overall rating is Mature, though not all chapters will have more adult content, and the timeline is fluid. Pairings: Nine/Twelve, Twelve/Lisa, and some Lisa/Twelve/Nine.
1. Frantic

Timeline: Episode 7, Deuce

Location: Haneda Airport Tarmac

* * *

><p>Pain throbbed in her ribs where the knotted blanket dug into her skin as she jerked, reaching its length. Dangling against the side of the jet, Lisa clawed in panic at the nearest knot, trying to get free. How many seconds did she have? How many seconds left until she was blown to bits? She couldn't remember.<p>

Her hands shook— frantic— she didn't want to die like this. Wind whipped her hair into a stinging mess that threatened to blind her and left her face numb from its lashing. _Let go. Let go. Let go! I'm going to die —_

"Lisa!" Twelve called her name. She heard him somehow, over the pounding of her heart. Or maybe that was just the jet's engines roaring, muted by her fear and the blood rushing in her ears.

But it wasn't loosening. Her fingers ached from her scrabbling. She was going to die.

"Jump!" he called again, reaching for her, his fingers grasping the air.

With one last tug, the fabric gave. Her stomach leapt and the world melted away as the knot came free.

Weightless.

All she saw was Twelve, his arms outstretched towards her — just the two of them suspended in time— and as she fell, she saw a deep fear in his eyes.

A moment later Lisa slammed into him, knocking them back onto the metal of the transport truck. Pain flowered across her body on impact but it faded into the background as Twelve hugged her fiercely. He rolled them and in one motion he stood over her, grabbed her by the hands, and lifted her to her feet.

"Almost there" He said, loud enough she could hear him over the sound of the engines. He jumped down beside the cab door and steadied her as she followed.

As soon as Twelve had shut the door behind them, Nine cut the wheel sharply and they sped away from the jet's path. They barely had time to brace themselves.

Seconds later, the bomb exploded, ripping apart the jet liner. Debris arced into the air behind them, a blossom of fire and smoke in the darkness of the runway. Lisa tensed, a gasp escaping her lips, as she looked back and took in the sight of the explosion against the night sky.

Twelve reflexively encircled her waist with one arm, the other bracing against the dash. She relaxed a fraction against him, allowing herself a moment to feel that she was really there, really safe with them. But her calm was interrupted by a rain of debris upon the transport truck as they retreated from the burning wreckage.

A flaming bit of something thunked onto the hood and Lisa yelped. It bounced backwards to land, flickering, next to the windshield.

"It's alright. We got you" Twelve murmured near her ear and pulled her against him onto his lap. She realized then that she was trembling fiercely. He must have felt it. Lisa glanced at him, wide-eyed, and was met by his deep, open gaze. She didn't know what to do — she wasn't expecting to see such relief written so plainly on his face.

In the warm light cast by the debris, Twelve took in the sight of her.

"…Lisa —" he started.

Nine made unpleasant noise — jarring them from the moment. They both looked his way in silence to see him fiddling with the controls and scowling. After some prodding, the truck's wipers reluctantly screeed across the dry windshield, knocking the burning debris off the hood.

Adjusting his glasses, Nine turned just barely enough to meet their surprised gaze. Brow furrowed, he gave them a perturbed look, before he returned his focus to the runway.

Leaning against Twelve as she was, Lisa felt the twitch in his stomach before he snorted.

"…What?" Nine glanced at them, still agitated, which sent Twelve into a fit of laughter.

The laughter came from the whole of him — its edges raw and cracked with relief. Lisa could feel it in him, starting deep and working its way free. He rested his head on the seat back as the laughter subsided, light dancing in his eyes. Nine said nothing and only after Twelve had seemingly finished did he turn to look at him again.

"It's…ha…It's nothing." Twelve said, before Nine could inquire again. With a smile on his face, he wiped his eyes. "I'm just happy, is all"

But Lisa could feel his hand on her trembling.


	2. Lights in the Distance

Timeline: Episode 7, Deuce

Location: Haneda Airport Tarmac

* * *

><p>A column of dark smoke and licking flames rose up into the night sky from the burning wreckage on the runway. Chunks of metal and blackened bits littered the pavement, as unidentifiable ashy pieces floated down from above. Nine maneuvered the transport truck to avoid the worst of the debris but it was a bumpy ride until they reached the edge of the blast radius.<p>

The main terminal of the airport glowed in the distance. A shift in the wind brought the smoke and ash down upon them. Orange and gold light from the boarding gates dispersed through the haze, casting the light in large halos.

"Ne, Nine, shouldn't we be heading away from Haneda?" Twelve cocked an eyebrow and gave Nine a look as he turned the transport truck in the direction of the control tower. "They may be reeling now, but they'll recover soon enough..."

"It would be rude to leave without saying goodbye." Nine flicked his gaze towards Twelve and back, the corner of his mouth twitching into the faintest smile.

"Ah. Well, then," Twelve's eyebrows rose in response and he matched Nine's smile with one of his own, "I could take the wheel if you need me to."

* * *

><p>While idling on the runway, they traded places. Given the size of the cab, it went smoothly enough with minimal elbowing. But, having only two bucket seats with little room between them and the doors, it was unable to fully accommodate three people, leaving Lisa the option to either half-squat over Nine's lap while leaning on the dash or to sit on Nine's lap.<p>

Twelve put the truck into gear and, with a lurch, settled the issue of where Lisa would have to sit. Losing her balance, she fell back against Nine with a yelp, almost missing his lap entirely and falling out of the seat.

"Oh, sorry," Twelve said sheepishly as the truck carried on. "I'm not too familiar with driving these kinds of things"

Nine recovered with a grunt and glowered at Twelve, who was pointedly not looking his way.

"I- I'm sorry" Embarrassed, Lisa tried to stand again.

"Just stay still. You might lose your balance if you try that again." Nine said as he helped right her and placed her on his lap. Lisa scooted to perch awkwardly on his knees, nearly leaning on the dash. He could appreciate her awareness of his comfort zone, but with her leaning, if she were to slip again, it would make it hard for him to grab her. Unsure of what to do, his hands hovered inches away from her waist.

Unbeknownst to Nine, Twelve was sneaking glances. A smile threatened to light his face, though he was trying hard to hide it by nibbling his lip. Now was not the time for either of them to see him holding back his amusement: they were both so tense.

Bringing them as close to the boarding gates as he was comfortable, Twelve slowed the truck.

"You'd better get ready, Nine."

The control tower loomed before them, climbing into the night sky above the rest of the terminal buildings. Nine reached around Lisa and rummaged in his pack for his mask. He gently slid her from his lap into the seat as he sat on the edge. Fitting his mask in place, he opened the door and stood to give a salute. Nine couldn't see Shibazaki from where he stood, but he knew the detective was up there.

They were alive because of him.

Out the window, gazing back from where they'd come, Twelve could see the distant flashing lights of firetrucks and other emergency vehicles, heading to the wreckage. The faint, undulating wails of sirens reached them through the open cab door, and the acrid scent of burning chemicals and melted metal wafted in. Scrunching up his nose at the smell, he put the truck in gear and eased it away from the terminal. Their window for escape would close soon.

Ducking back into the cab, Nine slipped off his mask as he closed the door. After a bit of maneuvering, he returned Lisa to his lap. She went to perch on his knees again, but he positioned her more squarely on his thighs, which earned him a questioning look.

"It'll be easier for me to help balance if you sit here instead" he said, before she could open her mouth to speak. "...another tumble might aggravate any injuries from your fall."

"Oh. Th-thank you." Lisa said and Nine felt some tension leave her, but she refrained from sitting back enough to lean against him.

Twelve dared a glance, amusement dancing in his eyes. The tingle of urgency in his gut vanished for a moment at the sight of them: Lisa looking bewildered; Nine looking uncomfortable, apparently not aware he still held her waist.

Clearing his throat, he drew their attention. Nine dropped his hands suddenly.

"We are about to have a big problem on our hands." He gestured to the flashing lights at the international terminal. "So, what's our next move? I'm assuming retrieving the van is beyond possible at this point."

Nine nodded, chewing his lip while he thought. "We'll have to find another way."

"Aw, I liked the van." Twelve sighed, earning him an annoyed look from Nine "What? It smelled nice and the seats were comfortable."

Ignoring Twelve's wistful response, Nine pointed towards the darker, northwestern corner of the airport grounds "We might be able to escape the police sweep if we cut through the fence, north of the hangars. The density of surveillance cameras should be lower out there, especially if we make ourselves harder to spot."

"Ah, good call. But we'd better move fast." Twelve turned the truck in the direction where Nine had pointed, killed the headlights, and gunned it. Surprised by the force of the sudden acceleration, Lisa fell back against Nine.

"Sorr-" She started, squirming, trying to reposition herself.

"It's okay." He cut her off. She turned enough to look at him. In the dim green glow cast by the dash controls, he regarded her intently, but there was no malice in his gaze and he felt her begin to relax.

A smile hovered at the edge of Twelve's lips.

* * *

><p>Reaching the edge of the runway, far away from either terminal, they ditched the transport truck in the darkness. The wind from the bay whipped by, carrying with it the layered scent of salt water, spilled fuel, and ocean decay. The thick smell nearly made Nine gag; he heard Lisa sneeze from it. In the distance, they could see flashing lights arriving at the main terminal, and as the wind shifted wildly, the sound of sirens waxed and waned.<p>

At a loping gait, Nine led the way, with Lisa and Twelve following. They cut a path across the runway, keeping to the shadows. Skirting wide of the helicopter pad and any light posts, they headed for the boundary fence.

_If all goes well, we can make it out without getting caught_, Nine thought, but he was beginning to worry. How long before the police started checking the hangars? No doubt, they'd be busy evacuating the public for a little while longer, but if enough reinforcements arrived, they'd be in trouble.

"You're doing great, Lisa. We're almost there." Nine heard Twelve say behind him. The fence rose up before Nine and he cast a glance back at them. Lisa was keeping up, but it was obvious she was beginning to tire.

Reaching the fence, Nine shrugged off his pack and tore into it. By the time Lisa and Twelve trotted up, panting, he was hard at work cutting through the links. The metal was heavy duty and hard to cut through - his hands ached from the effort and his nerves sang in his ears. Each twisting ching of the metal heightened his awareness of the possibility of getting caught but there was little he could do the muffle it. He just had to work faster.

Twelve's usual easy-going attitude dissipated some in response to Nine's tension, leaving him alert, though winded. He surveyed their surroundings while Nine made the last few cuts. On the other side of the fence was a wide open lot. Beyond that, lay darkened office and industrial buildings lit sporadically by orange exterior lights and the odd indoor fluorescent left on by a forgetful employee.

Aside from the building lights, the only other illumination were street lights planted at regular intervals along the service road running beside the lot and the light pollution of Tokyo staining the sky a dark, muddy yellow.

"I think I can see a car lot over there. We might get lucky and find one we can borrow." Twelve reported. He smiled but there was a tightness at the edges.

"Stick to the shadows and stay quiet" Nine addressed Lisa, who nodded, wide-eyed.

He pulled the cut fence back with a grunt and Twelve, grabbing Nine's bag, slipped through. Lisa followed close behind. Getting through the gap alone wasn't easy and he ended up scraping his back against the cut metal as he passed through, with the metal snapping back in place behind him. Nine swallowed the pain, sucking in air through his teeth to refocus and set out after them. He hoped he didn't just reopen his wounds.

The ground before them was uneven, packed earth, and not a paved lot like they thought, which slowed them considerably. Halfway across it, Lisa nearly tripped, but Nine bounded up to steady her by her arms before she could fall. She didn't cry out, nor did she falter further, but she winced from his grip. Their eyes met and he saw determination in her gaze - the intensity surprising him. She might be tiring, but she wasn't giving up. Instead, as he released her, she increased her pace, but was careful to watch where her feet fell. Nine matched her, in case she had another misstep.

Coming to the edge of the lot, between the halos cast by the street lights, they cut across the service road and into the deep shadows running alongside one of the industrial buildings. The road intersected another at a T at the far end of the building, and as they ducked behind some foliage growing there in the dark, a car appeared, passed through the intersection, and continued on away from them.

Nine let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. It was a good sign that the car wasn't a police vehicle and wasn't speeding away. It meant that either no one there was panicking or they hadn't been forced to evacuate yet. Either way, their prospects seemed better than he expected.

"Look, I was right!" Twelve whispered, excitedly, pointing at a narrow car lot that ran along the other side of the road, closer to the intersection.

A few lonely cars were parked in the gloom, with a nearly burnt-out light as their only guardian, which flickered weakly above them. From the look of it, they were employee cars. Each one different and bland, but otherwise unmarked. Hope fluttered in his gut as they darted across the road.

Twelve made quick work of the nearest vehicle, while Nine kept a lookout, and the three of them were inside less than a minute later.

Nine opted for the back seat, in case they were stopped. It would be problematic for both of them to be seen, if their appearances were being circulated, now that they'd been caught on camera. With Twelve and Lisa in the front, he hoped it would make it less likely for them to be noticed.

There was nothing more they could do about now, Nine told himself and tried to keep his pulse steady and calm.

Thankful for the darkness behind the tinted windows of the back, he sank gingerly into the cloth seat. His burns throbbed from the pressure but the pain kept his mind sharp in the moment.

He must have let out a hiss of pain, for Lisa turned and looked at him, concern in her eyes.

"Are you okay, Nine?" she asked quietly. Twelve tipped his head in response, waiting for his answer.

"It's nothing." he breathed, but said nothing more. He was sure neither believed him.

A heavy silence descended on them as Twelve drove them down the road past the hangars and other airport storage buildings. It became clear that the frenzied actions of the emergency response teams hadn't bled over to where they were. The street was mostly empty and there were few people outside - just the occasional smoker, standing in deep contrast beneath the glaring orange glow of the industrial lights. Harsh fluorescent, almost blue-green in its alien brightness, bled out across the road as they passed by the open doors of a hangar. Briefly, they saw a crowd of workers gathered at the far end, pointing and gawking in the direction of the still smoldering wreckage.

Nearing where the service road met the Kan-Pachi Dori, that ran beside the airport, they slowed to a halt in a queue of vehicles. Police were directing traffic but they were just one of several cars in a line trying to get through.

"Well, we'll see what happens." Twelve said, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. He tossed them both a strained smile.

Apparently, the details of the incident and their physical descriptions hadn't reached the police directing the flow away from the airport, since they weren't doing car checks or anything of the sort. These were just the normal police, trying their best to maintain order and safety in the aftermath of a terrorist attack.

Nine heaved a sigh of relief as they were waved through with the cars in front of them and they joined the flow leading back into Tokyo. Casting a glance back, he caught sight of the emergency response police just beginning to set up a barricade as their vehicle slipped across the bridge and into the city.

They had just barely made it out.


	3. A Smile in the Dark

Timeline: Between Episode 7 and 8

Location: Ōta-ku, Tokyo

* * *

><p>Snarled by the evacuation flow from Haneda Airport, traffic on the Kan-Pachi Dori had slowed to a crawl. They sat, inching along, for nearly fifteen minutes before Twelve could turn onto a surface street that shunted them away from the bulk of the congestion.<p>

As they slid off onto the residential streets branching away from the thoroughfare, the pressure of their escape eased. After the sea of tail lights that filled the car with red light, the side street seemed to swallow them in darkness —pierced only by the occasional street lamp or convenience store front glowing in the night beyond the reach of their headlights.

Lisa felt she could breathe easier.

"We're not safe yet" Nine said, breaking the quiet in the car. His abrupt words startled her. Maybe she had let out a sigh of relief or maybe he was just thinking outloud.

"Well, we're in much better shape now than we were twenty minutes ago. The worst of it is over." Twelve said, without taking his eyes off the road. His smile had yet to return, but he no longer gripped the wheel so tightly.

"Or do you disagree?" He asked, glancing at the rearview mirror. Twelve waited for a response, but Nine said nothing further.

Lisa peeked around the headrest to look at him, but in the deep shadow of the back, it was hard to make out much. As they passed under a street lamp, the light brushed by and she could see he had his eyes closed — his brow furrowed.

Before the darkness reclaimed the back seat and hid all from her but his outline and the rough impression of his features, she saw that he looked more agitated than she was expecting. He wasn't one for talking but Lisa couldn't help but feel he seemed on edge. She wondered if he was okay.

Lisa tried to think of something to say, but not wanting to bother him, she was hesitant to inquire. _If he's being silent towards Twelve, how likely would it be he would answer me?_ she thought. Concerned, but unsure what else to do, she settled back into her seat and looked out the window.

Between the slow pulse and fade of the street lamp lights, buildings rose up on either side of the narrow street. They passed darkened apartment buildings set back from the road — weak lights beside each doorway flickering in the night. As they drove on, the apartments were replaced by convenience stores, high schools looming beyond stretches of inky black field, and houses behind high brick walls, set close enough to the road she was sure she could touch them if she reached out the window. As they rode on, it all blended together in a stream of similar shapes broken only by intersections bathed in green and red light — identical streets stretching away through urban corridors.

The clock on the dash glowed a soft orange, reading 20:54. It had been over an hour since she was locked inside the plane. A phantom of panic rose in her at the memory of the gun against her back; she felt the chill of its presence through her dress. Swallowing hard, she forced herself into the present. She closed her eyes and focused on the feel of the cloth seat beneath her and on the muted hum of the car as it cut through the night.

She was safe. They were all safe. They would make it back together.

But they were still a long ways from the apartment.

"...How are we going to get back?" Lisa asked into stillness inside the car. Her words hung in the air.

"Thanks to Five's stunt, it won't be easy getting back to Shinjuku. Traffic on the highways is going to be a nightmare for hours." Twelve stated. He didn't look pleased. "I think we'd better ditch the car and try our luck on the trains."

Pulling up behind a truck stopped at an intersection, they idled and waited for the light to change.

"...We can't go together." Nine said from the back. "We have to assume our images are being circulated among the police."

Fear contracted in Lisa's chest and seeped into the back of her mind. Nine and Twelve's exchange continued but their voices were lost to the buzzing of her growing panic. She gripped the fabric of her dress and the world melted away, replaced by blind fear. _Splitting up? What if I get caught again?_ Bile rose in her throat at the thought.

Warmth spread on the back of her clenched fist. Shocked from her panic, she looked down and found Twelve had reached over and placed his hand over hers — his fingers firm against her skin. She turned to look at him, eyes wide. He pulled his attention from the road long enough to meet her gaze and give her a smile.

"It's alright, Lisa. We aren't going to make you go back alone." he said and he gave her a gentle, reassuring squeeze and her hands relaxed. She realized then that they had traveled some distance since the intersection. She hadn't noticed the car move.

"I...I'm sorry. I just got a little distracted" she murmured, looking down.

"You and I will go back together this time. It'll be okay." Twelve ran his thumb over her knuckles once, twice, three times before returning his hand to the wheel.

"Oh, okay." Lisa heard herself say. The thought of going with Twelve calmed her considerably, but her stomach twisted once with anxiety.

The buildings lining the far side of the road had fallen away, replaced by a grassy embankment beyond which Lisa caught glimpses of the Tamagawa. It shimmered in the night, reflecting back the light cast by the distant wards of Tokyo. She wondered when the transition happened and when they'd crossed the river.

Slowing, Twelve flicked on the turn signal and waited for an oncoming car to pass before easing across the road and onto a gravely section beside the steep embankment. A floppy vinyl sign strung up against the iron fence lining the area read something about a golf course nearby. Their headlights grazed it as they came to a stop, but one of its tethers had come loose and it was flapping in the breeze. A narrow, paved trail lead away from the parking area and cut a path up the embankment but where it lead was lost on the other side.

Twelve killed the engine and was outside moments later, opening the back door beside Nine to grab their bags. Nine handed them over and climbed slowly out of the car. Not sure what else to do, Lisa got out as well. The wind off the river whipped by, blowing her hair across her face. Tucking it behind her ear as best she could, she joined them on the other side of the car.

Nine stood, watching as Twelve dug in his bag. He pulled out a small, dark something and tried to hand it to Nine, who made no move to take it. Twelve sighed and waved it at him.

"Look, I know you don't like beanies, but they have footage of you wearing a cap. You can't wear one on the way back. Especially not the one I know you want to put on."

Nine scowled and took the garment. He gave it such a look of disdain it made Lisa smile, but she tried to cover it with her hand. She didn't want to seem like she was mocking him. He flicked his gaze to her and maybe she imagined it, but his eyes seem to soften.

He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back off his forehead, and slipped on the beanie before the wind could tousle it further. Turning, he squatted down, reached into his own bag, and dug around inside. She couldn't see what he pulled out, with his back to her, but after fiddling with it and returning it to the bag, he stood, turning back to them.

"That's better" Twelve said.

The dark beanie cut a line across his bare forehead above his eyebrows. Always covered as they were by his black, feathered bangs, she'd never seen the full shape of them before. They were slender and finely shaped — dark, in contrast to his skin. Black strands of hair, curling at the tips, escaped the beanie beside his ears, framing his face in dark lines. His usual glasses were gone. Instead, he wore a pair with rounded edges, lined only along the tops of the lenses.

Lisa was surprised at how different he looked. Without his hair to obscure his features, he appeared older and more severe.

He moved stiffly to shoulder his bag.

"I'll see you back —" he started.

"Nine! Your shirt!" Lisa broke in. Nine looked over his shoulder at her, his expression hard. She met his gaze. "It...It's too recognizable. If you wore it at the airport, they might pick you out on the train."

Twelve cocked his head to the side, giving Nine's outfit a discerning look. The white-winged decal on the back of his shirt crisp even in the glow of the street lamp.

"She's right, Nine. You probably should change it or something."

He didn't say anything in response. Working his jaw, he slipped his bag off his shoulder, unzipped it, and pulled a dark, athletic jacket from inside. With deliberate motion, he donned it, zipped up the front, and shrugged the bag back in place.

"Better?" he asked, his voice flat.

Twelve gave a decisive nod and an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

"We'll meet you back at the apartment. Shouldn't be longer than an hour and a half, assuming the local lines aren't flooded by the evacuation." He said. After a pause, he added, "Be careful, Nine."

Nine nodded once, flicking his gaze between them. He jogged up the path and disappeared over the crest of the embankment.

Twelve watched him go before turning his attention to his own change of clothing. In the uncertain light, it wasn't clear, but Lisa thought she saw a flash of concern on Twelve's face.

"Alright. Let's see what we have in here" he said. Digging in his bag, he pulled out a case and, from them, put on a youthful pair of glasses with large lenses. He took off his yellow beanie, fluffed his hair some, and slipped on a worn, light-colored hoodie over his head. In the distortion of the street lamp light, it was hard to guess the color.

"We should get going, too" Twelve said to Lisa, straightening the hoodie, and motioning for her to go back around. He stopped before opening the door, giving her a hard look over the top of the car. Lisa paused, her hand reaching for the door handle.

"What is it?" she asked, feeling a bit self-conscious under his scrutiny.

"Actually, you need this more than I do." He said, tugging on the fabric covering his chest.

Twelve came around to her side of the vehicle and nodded, as if confirming it to himself. He reached up and pulled the hoodie off over his head and handed it over to her. His shirt had come up in the back with the hoodie and after she took the garment from him, he wrestled it into place.

Hoodie in hand, Lisa looked down at her dress. Someone had realized she was involved at the airport. They would be able to match her to any footage on the train if she left it on.

"Do you have anything else I can change into?" She asked. "I think even with this, the dress is too recognizable."

"Hmn, I might." Twelve felt around inside his bag, his face scrunching up in concentration. "I wasn't really paying attention to the clothes I grabbed earlier — Ah! Here."

He pulled out a pair of striped shorts and handed them over. They were old and had possibly once been pants that had been cut off at the knee, with the way the hemline was frayed.

"How about this? Change in the car, and tap on the window when you're finished." he said. "We'll head out after."

Lisa nodded and got back in the car, clothing draped over her arm.

Changing in the front seat was an experiment in awkward angles. Unzipping the back of the dress went easily enough but slipping out of it was harder than she expected. The dress was too narrow, even unzipped, to go over her hips — leaving her to pull it off over her head. The ceiling of the car proved too low to tug it off without banging her elbows into it. Instead, she leaned forward over the dash to give herself enough room to pull it free.

Setting the crumpled dress on the console beside her, she slipped on the shorts and lifted up off the seat to pull them in place. They were snug on her hips but baggy in the thighs — the fabric bunching as she sat back down. It was an unusual sensation, wearing a man's shorts, where the fit was so off. She tugged on them to straighten the fabric; the hemline meeting her knees. The frayed ends of the shorts tickled her skin, so she cuffed them shorter to fold the loose threads away.

Getting comfortable, she fiddled with her shirt, twisting it back into the right place before she put on the last layer. Leaning forward again, Lisa slipped the hoodie on overhead, finding the armholes with ease. It was downy soft from age and worn nearly through in several places at the hem and the cuffs. As it slid into place, engulfing her, she pulled her head through and was wrapped in their scent. Both of them had worn it frequently enough that she couldn't pick one of them out over the other. The lingering edge to her fear dissipated as she breathed in deeply.

Calm once more and dressed, Lisa leaned over and tapped on the glass of the driver's side door. Twelve opened the back door, tossed his bag in, then joined her in the front.

While Lisa was changing, Twelve had further modified his outfit. He'd wide-cuffed his pants unevenly and they approximated something like shorts. Zipped up to cover his shirt, he wore a lightweight, oversized hooded jacket. The sleeves were long on him — the cuffs coming to rest near his knuckles. It bunched enough at his waist that Lisa wondered if the jacket was actually Nine's.

After fitting his seat belt in place, he looked her up and down and nodded. A smile hovered at the edges of his lips. With the glasses and everything else, he just looked like some goofy teenager — no longer serious and focused like he was on the runway.

"I approve." He said "Oh, one last thing." He pulled from his jacket pocket another beanie. From its lightness and texture, Lisa guessed it was his yellow one. Flipping it inside out revealed it had a gradient of some darker color on the reverse.

"Here, put this on." He said, handing it to her.

Lisa took it from him, the knit soft and well-loved in her hands. Slipping it on, she felt it was almost too big for her. She could feel it was floppy on the top, as she pulled it down to cover the tops of her ears. Should she pull it further? It'd cover half her face if she did.

Twelve smiled at her — a breathy chuckle escaping. Lisa looked at him, not sure how to position the beanie appropriately without looking like a complete dork. He reached over to help. Tugging it down so the top fit against her head, he momentarily obscured her vision. Gently, he folded the fabric back so the edge was above her eyebrows — her hair slipping out beside her ears and tickling her cheeks.

"There. That's better" he said, starting the car and putting it into gear. As he waited for a good moment to pull out onto the road, he smiled at her. "We're now a matching set of frumpy fugitives."


	4. Keen

Timeline: Between Episode 7 and 8

Location: Ōta-ku, Tokyo

* * *

><p>Nine followed the paved pedestrian trail northwest as it ran parallel to the Tamagawa. To his left lay the steep, terraced incline of the embankment. Intermittent concrete steps led away from the trail up and over the embankment.<p>

To his right, the broad bank sloped away from him, towards the water. He could see the river's surface glimmering in the distance, but where land met water's edge was lost in the deep darkness between him and the far bank. Inky black shadows and smudges interrupted the shimmer of the river, giving shape to unseen bushes and trees that grew in the wide expanse beside him.

Though the trail was flat and easy for traveling, it drifted far enough from the road and its evenly spaced lights, that it was hard to see where his feet fell. Miscalculating the edge of the trail, he lost his footing a few times and nearly fell off the pavement into the grass.

Even with the unsure changes of the path, he preferred the darkness. In the wide spaces connecting the parks beside the river, there was no surveillance. And, this late in the evening, there were no pedestrians aside from him.

He felt the pressure of the escape dissipating and he allowed himself to enjoy the weightlessness the relief brought — temporary though it was. There was a sharp edge to the relief, brought into focus as his backpack shifted with each step.

His bag jarred against him as he jogged, sending quiet, steady pulses of pain from his back. By now, Nine was sure he had reopened his wounds from the blast in Shinjuku station. Focusing on the rhythm of his footfalls and the timing of his breathing, he pushed the pain into the back of his mind.

He didn't have time to stop and inspect the damage.

The Nakahara bridge spanned the river before him. Casting haloes upward, it glowed a bright orange against the dark yellow murk of the night sky. Its arched, steel beams a pale gray in the light. As he neared, the trail split: one branch continued on into the gloom beneath the bridge, while the other sloped up towards it.

The _yoosh_ of cars passing over the bridge reached him as he loped up the gentle grade. At the height of the slope, the path came to a wide sidewalk bordering the bridge. Gusts whipped up by the passing traffic met him as he stepped into the light cast by the street lamps. Teased by the wind, the wisps of his hair escaping his cap tickled his ears.

Nine paused beneath a light to calm his quickened breath. Traffic continued, uninterrupted. It seemed the flow heading to and from Tokyo there was unaffected by the situation at Haneda. He cast his gaze to the south. On the horizon, he could make out the vague shape of the smoke column — a dirty smudge against the hazy glow of the city. It had lost much of its shape as it spread out, dispersing into the night sky.

Nine checked his watch. It was almost 9:20. From across the river, the faint wails of emergency vehicles reached him. A tremor of anxiety bloomed in his gut.

With a twist of his lips, he adjusted the weight of his backpack on his shoulder and headed across the bridge toward the train station.

* * *

><p>Aside from the lone businessman or woman heading home from a late night at the office, Nine encountered few people on the streets as he neared the station. Out of habit, he hugged the shadows anyway. Most of the businesses lining the road beside the train tracks were dark. The scent of grilled meat wafted by and was gone — plucked by a passing breeze — to be replaced by the delicate scent of rain lilies growing in a row along to the sidewalk.<p>

A dry cleaners sign glowed softly in the night, adding a blue-white hue to the orange light of the street. Above were three stories of narrow apartments, windows all dark save for the top, where a warm glow outlined the shape of heavy curtains. Beyond the reach of the light from the ornate street lamps lining the road, the rest of the buildings' upper floors faded into shadow.

Across the street from Nine, a group of salarymen stumbled out of an izakaya tucked deep between two closed storefronts. Their ties were slack and off-center — bold black lines against the lightness of their shirts. The two leading leaned heavily on each other, as if they couldn't stand without the weight of the other against them. Nearly tripping over their own feet, they belted out the jumbled phrases of some pop song. The sound of their sloppy laughter and sloppier singing faded as they rounded the corner and, save for the occasional car, Nine was left alone on the street.

The entrance to the train station, set beneath elevated train tracks, shone brightly in the night. Nine grit his teeth as neared it. _Now the hard part. _he thought. Images of capture — his face pressed roughly against a cold wall while the pinching metal of handcuffs cut into his wrists — intruded into his mind. He shoved them from his thoughts.

As he passed under the threshold and into the flood of cool fluorescent and tile-lined walls, Nine sucked in a calming breath. Between one step and the next, he altered his manner. From the set of his shoulders, to the angle of his gaze, all of it, he tuned so as to fade from notice — an unremarkable young man meant to slip from memory. Inconspicuous.

One hand in his hoodie pocket, the other holding his bag strap, Nine held his head so his line of sight fell just below those he passed. He was neutral: neither shrinking away from, nor inviting, interaction.

With his backpack slung on his shoulder, he could be a high school student heading home from study group. Or maybe he was in his first year of college, catching a train into Tokyo to see a friend. To an onlooker, he could be any young adult.

The entrance hallway opened up into the main part of the station before the platforms. Coming to a stop near a set of vending machines, Nine pretended to fiddle with his phone. Keeping his gaze low, he scanned the station between glances at the screen. Inside, there were more people milling about than there had been on the street. The south entrance where he stood was the smaller of the three, and most people were heading home through the other two.

A thin, bubbly advertising tune spilled out from the front of the 24 hour Lawson across from him. It was tinny and irritating to his sensitive ears. The clicking and clacking of dress shoes and high heels on the tile ballooned up, filling the bright space. Somewhere in the station, a rolling briefcase had a loose, squeaking wheel.

Shifting his focus to the people around him, he caught vague snippets of conversation from passengers walking together. The overall tone was fearful and clipped.

"...said Sphinx just attacked Haneda!"

"Uehh?! Really? I can't believe it."

"Tokyo's not safe anymore…"

"No, mom, I'm okay. I'm at the — I know! I am! I'm coming home right now—"

A female voice came over the speakers, announcing the arrival of a train heading away from Tokyo. It was pleasant, but robotic at the edges.

Nine put his phone away and took a step forward toward the turnstiles. A shape in his peripheral brought him up short. Turning as casually as possible, he regarded the beverage selection in the vending machine nearest him.

Out of the corner of his eye, under the edge of his glasses, he saw two security personnel walking with purpose from the east entrance. Their demeanor was tense as they scanned the station. One had a sheet of paper in his white-gloved hand that he was glancing at as he walked.

He could see they were having a clipped conversation from the speed of their mouths working. But, from that distance, he couldn't make out what they were saying. Nine flicked his downcast gaze from them to the backlit bottles before him, as he stroked the side of his chin thoughtfully. With conscious effort, he relaxed his pose further— a teenager lost in thought.

"...it's a real mess over there. And the police…" he heard one say as they passed by a few feet behind him. The second made a noise of affirmation but their conversation was gone as their brisk pace carried them away toward the west exit.

Nine lingered, making indecisive motions until, in his periphery, he saw the two guards disappear around the corner.

With his focus behind him, he popped a couple yen in the machine and made a random selection. A beverage belched out below. Crouching to pick up the drink, he cast his gaze about, looking for more guards. All he saw were various passengers. An elderly ticketing agent busied themselves in the information booth down past the entrance to the platforms.

Slipping the cool bottle into a mesh side pocket of his bag earned him a spike of pain from his back, near his shoulder blades. Swallowing a grunt, he stood and headed toward the platforms.

He kept his gaze angled down — his focus on his peripheral. With his bangs tucked up into his hat, he felt naked and exposed. The unfamiliar glasses sat on his face in such a way that made him ever conscious of their placement on his nose.

_It's obvious you're guilty_, an irrational voice in the back of his mind whispered and his pulse refused to calm itself. The erratic pounding in his ears masked much of the ambient sounds in the station as he neared the card reader. He worked his jaw in frustration. Trying to appear more neutral, he managed to turn the motion into an attempted yawn that threatened to become a real one. He blinked backed the sudden watering of his eyes.

Stepping between the metal turnstiles, he slid his card over the reader. It beeped brightly and its painted gate flapped open, allowing him to pass on.

The area beyond the turnstiles widened out, making room for the multiple stairs and escalators that lead to platforms above and below the main station floor. Cutting across the space toward the far left set of stairs, Nine passed near the top of the steps leading down.

Movement drew his gaze. Slowing, he glanced down and saw a local train leaving from one of the platforms on the lower level. It was heavily loaded with passengers heading away from Tokyo. For a brief moment, he saw the faces of those closest to the windows. They looked strained — some exhausted and others wide-eyed. Nine averted his gaze.

A few steps more and he was on the escalator heading up. He leaned against the edge of the rubber handrail. It tugged on his hip and twisted the fabric against his skin as it tried to nudge ahead of the speed of the steps. _All the technology in this place and we still can't get the rail and the stairs to go at the same speed_, he thought as he readjusted himself against the rail.

If it were any other day, he would stand away from it rather than be bothered by it. But tonight, he didn't care. It took so much effort to maintain his appearance, to keep vigilant focus on how he was presenting while keeping an eye out for police, that he just couldn't care. The weight of all they'd done that day pressed down on him then and he found himself tired. Leaning against the rail, he rubbed his eyes under his glasses. Even with a wave of exhaustion threatening to crash down on top of him, he kept his expression and body language in check.

As the escalator brought Nine closer to the crest, a gust of wind from the open-air platforms met him. Closing his eyes, he took in the scent of the breeze as it swept by. The night air was cool and tasted of the river. Behind the tinge of wetness, it brought with it the faint, layered smells of the city — exhaust, street dirt, summer flowers. And at the very end of it all, a metallic sizzle.

_It's going to rain soon_, he thought, tasting the tingle in the air. He lingered in the scent and allowed himself to enjoy it.

Against his hip, he felt the handrail curve. Coming back to himself, he opened his eyes and blinked away the sensation of the breeze. He straightened from the handrail. Stepping clear of the escalator, he almost collided with a guard jogging by.

Nine's heart leapt into his throat as he jerked away, trying not to fall or flail. The guard had stepped wide at the last moment and had avoided hitting Nine, but he was also thrown off balance. The guard took a step towards Nine to help, but Nine regained his balance and waved the guard off.

"I'm terribly sorry. I did not see you there. Please excuse my rude behavior." embarrassed, the guard bowed deeply.

"Uh...I-it's okay. I wasn't paying attention either" Nine mumbled and looked at his watch, then away, down the platform. His pulse was thundering in his ears and his face was flushed. Seeing Nine looking away, the guard apologized again, turned on his heel, and all but ran down the stairs that lay beside the escalator.

Nine flicked his gaze at the guard's retreating form until he had disappeared down into the station below. He drew a shaky breath and tried to make the adrenaline slow in his body.

The female announcer's voice came over the speakers again, telling the platform that the next train of the Tōkyū Tōyoko line bound for Tokyo had two minutes till arrival. Her voice spurred him into movement.

Nine made his way to the appropriate loading area. There were a few other travelers on the platform near him. A young woman stood leaning against a support column, her thumb rapid-fire typing on the lilac flip phone in her hand. Each button press made the charms dangling from it jingle faintly. She was dressed in youthful clothes, all brightly colored and short. Her hair was teased up into a messy pile of ombre tresses.

Another passenger stood near the loading space, carrying out an animated conversation on his phone. He was hunched over, his head angled down as he talked. He probably thought he was keeping his voice down, from how clipped his words were, but they carried anyway. Not far away, a large sign on a column asked passengers to be polite and not make phone calls on the platform.

Nine did his best to ignore them, while keeping his posture such so as to keep people from talking to him.

A different female, computerized announcer came over the speakers. Voice steady and calm, she implored the passengers to be mindful and courteous during this time of unexpected traffic. She also reminded the passengers that security personnel were there to assist in case of emergency. Her message about being aware of suspicious individuals continued but the rest was drowned out by the announcement of the arrival of the train.

Nine stepped up to the boarding line as the train slid by the platform. Its wheels squeaked on the tracks as it came to a heavy stop. The rest of the passengers queued up at the different doors — waiting for them to open.

The doors shooshed opened and any exiting passengers stepped out onto the platform. They passed by him, a small mix of business people, college kids, and other commuters. Some carried plastic bags with groceries in them. The scent of the train car wafted by — a mix of faint colognes, trapped air, and metal.

He waited until the handful of passengers left before he stepped onto the train. A few passengers were already in the car, but not so many that seats were hard to find. Nine picked a spot where he could sit half-hidden by the divider next to one of the doors. A pole on the other side of him would discourage anyone from sitting right next to him. He set his backpack on the seat beside him anyway.

As the doors closed and the train pulled away from the station, he relaxed a fraction. The train slid through the night on elevated tracks. Outside the window, there was little to see other than darkened buildings and streets, splashed with orange and mint light from the street lamps. All other color was lost in the blanket of deep darkness. In the distance, the bright light of the heart of Tokyo welled up in the night sky, painting it an opaque cream.

Nine let out a sigh and made the mistake of leaning against the seat. The tender skin of his back pulsed at the pressure and he bit down on a hiss of pain. He wondered if he'd started bleeding.

As the pain faded, he leaned carefully against the divider, instead, and looked at the window across from him. The image of a tired young man, nearly slumped against the divider and distorted by the curve of the glass, looked back at him.

Not wanting to linger on his reflection, Nine pulled out his phone and browsed the numerous news articles flooding the internet about the attack on Haneda. The information circulating was incomplete and stilted. He scrolled through live-updating articles, looking for anything that referenced their identities.

There were videos of the explosion already uploaded to YouTube and other sites. The comments on each in the thousands. There were articles outlining approximately what had happened at the airport, but nothing about _them_ — just about the damage and the evacuation and the attack itself and speculation of their motive. No images of them had been released.

Nine narrowed his eyes.

There were thousands of cameras in the airport. They had gone in knowing they would be seen and have their likenesses recorded. And yet. And yet, none of that information was online anywhere.

_Five, _he thought. She had to be involved in keeping their identities from getting out. Of course, there was the chance the police had photographs that hadn't been leaked to the press yet. But with how much of a threat they were to the city, Nine doubted that information could be withheld for long. Without confirmation, though, he had to assume the police knew.

But now he wondered who Five was really working with, if she truly was able to keep such things from the police.

_If we can't figure that out…_ he chewed his lip, not wanting to finish the thought.

As the train carried on, his mind drifted and settled on thoughts of Twelve and Lisa. Anxiety spiked in the pit of his stomach.


End file.
